


What Happens in Vegas

by Percy_Anthony



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:22:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3139217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Percy_Anthony/pseuds/Percy_Anthony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years before their work at RED and BLU - Sniper and Spy meet each other. In the most holy of ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens in Vegas

Spy considered himself a classy man. Dignified. Well put together. He didn't get drunk and make a fool of himself in bars. He only drank the finest of alcohols. Men and woman alike found themselves drawn in by his charismatic faucades, and he drank up the secrets they spilled from their lips like milk.

He was a professional. 

Sniper considered himself a loner. Cool and mysterious, he didn't need anyone. People knew of him, but they didn't know him. Never drank a lot,  he needed to have a steady hand. You wouldn't see him as the star of messy bar fights. Even though he acted cold and aloof, people were attracted to him but he was always gone before they could act on those feelings - like a cold breeze on a dark night.

He was a professional. 

They of course - were both completely wrong.

Long before their work at RED and BLU these so called "professionals" found themselves both on a job in Las Vegas. Sniper there to take out a guy, Spy there to get dirt on the owner of one of the casinos. The jobs led them to the same casino Spy was looking into, a hotel was conjoined to it and Sniper had been informed to book a room there. His target would be in place in the morning.

With time to kill Sniper decided to head down to the bar, get a drink or two before getting some sleep. He found himself sat at next to another young gentleman, he was wearing a well fitted dark green suit and was sipping away at an expensive looking glass of whiskey. Sniper thought nothing of him, ordered some scotch and ignored everyone around him. Soon enough though he found himself listening into the conversation of the man next to him and the bartender. The two were speaking in the type of hushed whisper that spoke of darker things then what people usually talked about in warm bar rooms. They weren't speaking in English the whole time either, switching between English and what must be French. He guessed it was French at least, because he recognized at least one word from movies he'd seen.  
  
The two weren't actually acting suspicious. People talked quietly all the time. Perhaps the two knew each other? Perhaps the elderly bartender was from the younger mans home country and they were talking of the similarity they shared? Sniper only assumes that the States weren't the mans home country due to his thick accent, that no matter how hard the other may have been trying to mask it, was fairly obvious. Yet, Sniper had been in this game awhile. He knew when people talked quiet because of something a bit darker than friendly reminiscence.  
  
The parts of the conversation he could understand only fueled Sniper's paranoia.   
  
"He will be in the room at the correct time, yes?"  
  
"Perhaps."  
  
There was a quick passing of a high dollar bill that was definitely not for a refill of whiskey.  
  
"He'll be there. Unguarded as well. He's a private man, doesn't like being interrupted."  
  
Sniper and this young gentleman shared something in common then. They were both after someone. Who was this man after though? It wasn't uncommon that assassins were sent after other assassins. Revenge, competition, there was a lot of motivation out there to take each other out. Sniper couldn't count the number of people he knew who would like to have his head on a silver platter.  
  
"You're sure they won't suspect anything?"  
  
"He's expecting a package, you're posing as the delivery man. If I know that fool, he'll be to caught up in his own greed to be suspicious."  
  
At least the man wasn't after him, Sniper found a sweet relief in that. The young man finished off his whiskey, and motioned for more. It came quickly. The bartender wasn't wasting his time lightening the wallet of the man in front of him, that was for sure. The conversation switched back to French. Moments later, the bartender and the man shared one final nod and that was that. But, Sniper wasn't able to avert his gaze away from the man before the other noticed his stare. He really needed to invest in sunglasses, it would make it easier to people watch.  
  
He expected the other to either leave, or comment on his staring. He didn't expect a far to sweet smile, and for the other to turn to him completely.  
  
"Hello, how is your evening sir?"  
  
Kindness seemed to drip from the mans mouth, but it had to be an act. People don't make livings off of killing without learning how to act.  
  
"It's early," he started, finishing off his own drink, "Anything could happen. Bartender, more scotch please."  
  
"Allow me. The scotch is on me."  
  
Sniper raised an eyebrow. "That's nice of you."  
  
He got no response, just another smile. This fellow wasn't to be trusted.  
  
After the young man took a long sip from his glass he spoke again, "How has been the city been treating you. It's my first time being here. It's very much like the movies, but with less car chases."  
  
Sniper huffed, the man was good at acting that was certain. He emptied his glass again.  
  
"I'm here on business, no time for pleasure."  
  
The man met eyes with the bartender, and Sniper found his glass filling again.  
  
"I'm on business too, but alas. You seem to have enough time to relax with some fine drink."  
  
Sniper honestly laughed at that comment, "Fine drink? I don't know about fine, it's alright, but it's not like it's the best."  
  
"Oh? Perhaps you'd like to try the best then?"  
  
"To expensive for my taste mate."  
  
The young man gave him a sideways look as he sipped away at the drink in his own glass.  
  
"Garçon?" getting the attention of the bartender, "Two of your finest drinks, s'il vous plaît. I'm going to treat this man to something more refined."  
  
Soon enough Sniper found a glass of expensive alcohol in front of him, and the young gentleman looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to drink first. He didn't know why he was putting up with this guy, but something inside Sniper made him indulge him. Not without some form of backlash though.  
  
"First. Bartender, a good beer for him then, on me," the confused look the man gave him was reward enough for doing this, "I've found that expensive doesn't mean better. A good average beer is better than most big labels."  
  
Once the two each had a drink in front of them, there was a short stare down. The younger gentleman obviously didn't expect him to do that. It put a smile on Sniper's face.  
  
"Bottoms up mate."

* * *

Come the crack of dawn, Sniper found himself back in his hotel room. Half dressed and on top of the blankets of the bed like he'd just thrown himself onto them when he got in.   
  
Best part?  
  
He wasn't alone. The younger gentleman from the bar last night was with him. They were both almost completely dressed though, so that ruled out one option as to what happened last night. He looked at the time, he still had an hour or so until his target was in position. He'll have to get rid of this guy before then. He rubbed his hands across his face, shielding his eyes from the light slipping in through the large gap that had been left in the curtains. He really needed sunglasses.   
  
As he rubbed his face, he felt something unfamiliar. Something cold on one of his fingers. Moving his hand back to examine it, he was shocked to see what he found there.  
  
A ring. A simple ring. Grey in color, so probably silver or platinum. No design or gems.  
  
He stared at the unknown object in confusion for a few moments before he realized what it meant.  
  
It was on the right finger for it.   
  
"Piss."  
  
Jumping out of bed, jostling the sleeping man beside, he searched the room for anything to confirm his suspicion. Spotting some papers laying on the ground near the door he dove for them, just as his night time companion fully awoke from their slumber. He was mumbling something grumpily in French.  
  
Sniper snatched up the papers on the floor and read through them.   
  
"Oh god what did we do?" he turned to look at the man, who seemed to have just found his own silver ring 'round his own finger.   
  
"Well. _Darlin'_ , it appears that we got hitched." he snapped. He needed some coffee. Now.   
  
A string of colorful language fell from the mouth of the not-so-stranger. Sniper didn't know what to do. His hit is in an hour, and once that goes down, he has to get the hell out of the country. He was about to tell the other man that, when the man began talking for him.  
  
"I leave the country in a few hours."  
  
"Same."  
  
"Well fuck!"  
  
The man was sitting up in bed now. His suit coat was no where to be seen, and his tie was completely loose, buttons on his shirt undone here and there. Sniper himself realized his own shirt was missing as well. The two stared at each. Talk about embarrassing first meetings. Sniper spoke first.  
  
"So. Honestly. Our only option is to just... uh."  
  
"Pretend this never happened and never speak of it to anyone?"  
  
"Yeah, I mean what are the chances of us meeting again, so," he glanced at the paper to read the name of the man in front of him again, "I'll go my way and -"  
  
Before he could speak a syllable of the name he was cut off, "Just forget my name now. I must be on my way. I take it we both have _business_ , to attend to."  
  
Sniper nodded at him. He was embarrassed at himself. He'd gotten himself drunk the night before a job was going to go down, and had gotten _married_ of all things. He rubbed his head in annoyance. He needed some coffee, and maybe a night to get drunk enough to forget this happened. He and the other man ignored each other as they went about getting themselves put together.  
  
Less than a minute passed before the mysterious man was leaving.  
  
Pulling open the door, he looked back at Sniper. They met eyes for less than a second, when he spoke, "This _will_ be the last time you see me."  
  
And then he was gone.   
  
Sniper was already pulling out his rifle before the door was completely closed.

* * *

Years later Sniper found himself working at RED. It was good work here, no worry about being arrested and clear and easy objectives. He'd all but forgotten the incident, save for the ring he'd been keeping on a chain around his neck along with several other old trinkets from his past jobs. He'd really only kept it as a reminder to not be so loose lipped when polite strangers buy you drinks. 

One day though, he had nearly been stabbed by the BLU Spy, resulting in a short scuffle. Having had his kukri and his rifle kicked away, and the other having been disarmed as well they had resulted to hand to hand fighting. Grabbing the balaclava that covered the others head he yanked on it, pulling it clean off. The force of the movement knocked them both backwards onto the ground.  
  
He was about to move for his weapons when he got a good look at the others face, he'd recognize that face anywhere. Marriage certainly makes someone recognizable. In turn the man in front of him was eyeing the ring around his neck.   
  
"You've got to be kidding me." the Spy whispered in utter shock.   
  
"Hey honey. Been awhile."  
  
" _Shut your mouth!_ "  
  
Sniper couldn't help but start laughing, this was honestly the most amusing coincidence that could have ever happened. That added to how red the others face was turning, it made the situation even funnier.  
  
"Hey, hey, did you keep yours?"  
  
"The ring? I ... yes." Snipers laughter grew louder. The Spy grabbed up their mask and started pulling it back on. He had come up here to backstab a Sniper but now the moment was just ruined. He was about to leave when the Sniper grabbed his arm, stopping him.  
  
"Hey, next weekend we should head to the bar. Reminisce about old times," Sniper managed to gasp out as he laughed, "It's not like we ever got a honeymoon."  
  
"Oh please. If we go to a bar again, we might accidentally adopt a child."  
  
There was a moment of silence, before the two actually considered the idea. Both of them started laughing.   
  
Sniper wiped away tears from his eyes, as gunfire brought their attention back to what they were supposed to be doing right now.   
  
"Well. I suppose you will see me again, fair well."  
  
"Wait, wait! I've always wondered something about that night."  
  
The Spy rolled their eyes, "What?"  
  
"Who proposed?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://savingremus.tumblr.com/post/108743861660/mormonstrous-theshrikeabyssal
> 
> My inspiration for this. Forgive me. Any mistakes please correct me!


End file.
